The Summoning of the Order

[Author’s Note:  Much of the material drawn for this chapter is based on the intellectual property of Atlas Games, in their game Ars Magica, 4^th and 5^th editions.  The Order of Hermes, the names of the Houses of Hermes, and many other ideas are the intellectual property of Atlas Games.  All such property interests remain with Atlas Games.  They have a lawful claim to a fair share, based on industry standards, of any financial profits that arise from my use of their property with the exact details to be worked out in future licensing negotiations.]

Anno Domini 1228 – Durenmar Covenant

            Hidden deep in the Black Forest, a strong fortress over looks a deep mountain stream.  Here, four hundred and sixty-one years ago, the Order of Hermes was founded.  This secretive society is made up of over a thousand of the most powerful wizards in all of Europe.  Every thirty-three years the leaders of each of the twelve Houses that make up the Order and a delegation from each of the thirteen regional tribunals gather here in a Grand Tribunal to settle disputes between the tribunals, hand down interpretations of the laws that bind the Order together, to share new magical innovations, and to discuss other issues that affect the whole Order.  The day before the Grand Tribunal officially begins the leaders of the twelve Houses, the Primi, gather in a secret chamber to reach a consensus on selected divisive issues so they can present a united front and insure some measure of order in a society made up of very individualistic and often quarrelsome individuals. 

           

            Late in the midmorning before the Grand Tribunal was due to commence, an elderly man leaning on a boy of about ten years made his way to the secret chamber.  As he slowly made his way to his seat, he looked around the room for what he knew to be his last time.  A large circular oaken table dominated the room.  Twelve high backed chairs, almost miniature thrones ringed the table.  Several smaller serving tables with pitchers of wine, and several platters of fine cheeses, meats, and fresh bread were aligned around the room.  On the back of each chair, above where a person’s head would be was carved a symbol of one of the twelve Houses.  He sat in the chair marked with a pair of crossed keys, standing on their bow with their pins in the air, the symbol of House Bonisagus, those who learned their arts from the Founder of the Order and creator of the Hermetic theory of Magic. 

            “Jonathon, please invite the other Primi to join me and then return to your studies,” he dismissed the boy.

            “Yes Master.” The boy bowed and hurried off.

            A few moments later a short Spanish woman with dark hair just starting to grey entered the room.  “Greetings Primus of Bonisagus,” she greeted him formally. 

            “Welcome Primus of Flambeau.  Please be comfortable.”  He returned her formality with a twinkle in his eye as she made her way to the chair marked with a pair of equilateral triangles forming an hour glass, the symbol for House Flambeau, the wizards of destruction.

            “How goes the Reconquestia?” he asked as she pecked him on the cheek before sitting down. 

            “It goes well for the Christian lords Antonius.  Not so well for the Moorish lords.  We have been able to avoid any open conflict with both sides.  Natural when a covenant comes under attack …” she spread her hands helplessly, “but our Jerbiton siblings have been very busy keeping the local lords to busy with each other to pester us too much.  There are some impressive research being done in Granada and I hope to visit the covenant there soon.  It seems that some accord has been reached with the Moorish sorcerers and some information is being shared.  We will have to watch it carefully and I’m thinking about asking Julius to send a couple of quaesitors with me just to make sure that some secrets are not being shared.”

            “If they are sharing…” Antonius raised his finger as a matronly woman entered.  He rose stiffly, “Greetings Primus of Mercere.”

             “Sit down before you hurt your self you old goat,” she snorted and smiled.  Julia chuckled as the woman took the chair marked with a messenger’s cap, the symbol of House Mercere, the messengers that carried news from one covenant to another, enabling the Order to remain vaguely united. 

            “It is good to see you again Drucilla.”  Julia reached out her hand.

            “It is good to see both of you again.  I was half expecting some novice to take Antonius’ seat this time and I am glad to be wrong.”

            “This will be my last Grand Tribunal as Primus of Bonisagus.  While final twilight is not something to look forward too, only the fool makes no plans.  I am considering my successor and I am looking forward to finishing Jonathon’s training and wrapping up a few projects.”  Antonius leaned back into his chair.  Casting a tired eye at Julia, “Please talk with Julius about taking at least one quaesitor and perhaps some hoplites with you.  Any Moorish sorcerer who has learned Parma will have to join the Order or die.  That is our law.”

            Julia nodded as a brown haired man of about thirty entered the room.  “Greetings Primus of Tytalus.”  Antonius sat up strait in his chair.

            “Greetings, Primus of Bonisagus.  Do we have a wizard’s march and no one told me?” He half smiled and fingered his dagger as he took the chair marked with the spiral of House Tytalus, the House of growth through conflict.

            “Not yet Marcus,” Antonius shook his head and then mumbled a few words while looking at one of the pitchers of wine and a goblet.  The pitcher filled the goblet and it floated over to Antonius’ out reached hand. 

            A bald woman with Arabic features and a host of arcane marks tattooed on her head, neck, and face entered the room and took the chair marked with an infinity symbol within a circle within a square; the symbol of House Criamon, the seekers of something they called the Enigma, a concept they could not, or would not, explain to other wizards.  She uttered no greeting and appeared to be deep in thought.

            “Greetings Primus of Criamon,” Antonius raised his goblet in toast.  She looked at him as if seeing a point far beyond the wall behind him. 

            “Hmmm.  Yes.  Greetings Antonius,” she paused and seemed to refocus her attention.  “It is good to be here.”  She seemed to drift back into her thoughts.

            “Talibah, I can not tell if you are being rude or merely lost in your Enigma.”  Marcus smirked.

            “Hmmm.  Yes.  Rude Tytalus.” She pinned him with her gaze as if examining a strange insect for the first time. 

            “Careful Marcus,” Drucilla put her hand on his forearm with a worried look.  He frowned and sat back in his chair.

            A thin scholarly man with a bald palate and long stringy white hair entered next.  “Greetings Primus of Bonisagus, fellow Primi.”  He smiled warmly as he took the seat marked with the scales of justice, the symbol of House Guernicus, the judges and investigators of matters that might violate the Code of Hermes, the oath the bound the Order together.

            “Welcome Julius, Antonius and I were just discussing a matter in Iberia that you and I need to discuss a bit later.”

            “Moorish sorcerers I’ll wager,” he made a couple gestures with his hands and another pitcher filled a goblet and it floated over to his outstretched hand.

            Julia nodded as a tall red haired woman with streaks of grey in her hair entered.  “Greetings Primus of Bonisagus and my fellow Primi,” she intoned with a strong Scottish accent. 

            Greetings Primus of Ex Miscellanea.”  Antonius nodded as she took the seat marked with a staff shaped like a lightening bolt, the symbol of House Ex Miscellanious, the House of those with no other home in the Order. 

            “Greetings Aoife.  How are things in England these days?”  Marcus smiled warmly.

            “Still too cold for your Norman blood I’ll wager but we are at peace save for some of the tribes in the hills of Caledonia and Cambria.”  She smiled sweetly as Marcus winced.  Drucilla and Julia chuckled while Antonius smiled ruefully.

            “You still blame us for William I see.”  Marcus shook his head. 

            “He did upset things a bit but his brats and their children are usually more concerned with France and the Holy Land to be too much of a nuisance.”  Aoife warmed her smile a bit. 

            Marcus started to speak as a young woman in her late twenties entered.  “Greetings Primus of Bonisagus, fellow Primi.  It is good to see most of you.”  Her voice was almost that of a song. 

Julia stiffened and almost rose when Antonius rested his hand on her forearm. “Greetings Primus of Merinita.”  She took the seat next to Aoife, the one marked with a tree in full bloom, the symbol of House Merinita, the explorers of all things Fey. 

“Still using glamour I see Varia.” Julia sniped.

 Varia smiled, her eyes cold as winter as a giant of a man in his late thirties entered the room.  His full beard, long hair, and northern fur dressings make him almost look like a bear on hind legs.  “Greetings Primus of Bonisagus.”  He rumbled as he sat down next to Varia.  His chair was marked with a simple cone, the symbol of House Bjornaer, the house of magi who could assume the form of animal ancestors and sought to understand their animal nature. 

“Greetings Primus Bjornaer.  All goes well in the Baltic areas I hope Arnbjórn.”  Antonius leaned forward a bit.

“The Teutonic crusaders pillage the lands and we have had to deal harshly with some who have threatened our coven folk but let us discuss that a bit later,” he rumbled and looked over at a serving tray.  Several slices of cheeses and meats flew on to a small plate and it floated over to him. 

“Be careful to not to draw the attention of the Church Arnbjórn.” Julius started.

“Let us discuss that later Julius.” Antonius cut him with a raised hand as a stocky man in his late forties entered the room.

“Greetings Primus of Bonisagus,” he respectfully bowed his tonsured head.

“Greetings Primus of Tremere.”  Antonius forced himself to rise and returned the bow.  “Is all well up north Seneca?” Antonius sat back down.

“It is well.  The Emperor has just launched his second expedition to the Holy Land and with luck it will be more successful than the last.”  Seneca looked around the room and his eyes narrowed a bit when he saw Marcus.

Marcus offered a thin wary smile as Senaca made his way to the chair marked with the astrological sign for man within a square, the symbol of House Tremere, followers of the belief that hierarchy and discipline were the only rational answer to an inherently dangerous and chaotic world. 

“Salve Bonisage!” boomed from a portly man in the finest cut of the most current fashions from Venice who entered the room with arms outstretched as if to hug everyone in the room at the same time.

“Salve Jerbiton.”  Antonius smiled warmly while several of the other primi cast skeptical looks at the man as he almost danced to the chair marked with a castle tower, the symbol of House Jerbiton, the custodians of art, culture, and diplomacy. 

“I see you are keeping up with Venice cuts this year Rafael, last year it was Roman or was it Milan?” Varia cocked her head to watch him pass.

“I came here from Venice so I dress as Venice would have me dress my dear feyling.”  He poured himself a goblet of wine and placed a few slices of cheeses and meats on a plate before taking his seat. 

“Any news of Italy and of the Pope we should concern ourselves with?” Arnbjórn rumbled.

“Just the usually political maneuverings of mundane politics good friend.  Gregory and Fredrick are arguing over Fredrick’s excommunication and I suspect Fredrick will leave for the Holy Land with out having it lifted.”

“To bad he is not taking those cursed Teutonic knights with him.” Arnbjórn grumbled.

“Their efforts would be better focused on the Turks rather than some harmless pagans in eastern Europe.” Senaca nodded. 

“I know of a few French knights who should be convinced to head that way as well.”  Rafael muttered softly as he sat down.

“The Cathars are not our concern Rafael.” Julia chided him.

“The Cathars are worse than the Moors and Turks, they distort the teachings…” Seneca began as a gaunt woman in her late sixties entered the room.

“Greetings Primus of Bonasagus,” she peered through very thick glasses.

“Greetings Primus of Verditus.”  Antonius nodded as she fumbled with one of the dozens of small talismans hanging in various places on her dress.  A goblet and plate of cheeses and breads flew ahead of her as she walked to the last chair.  It was marked with a hand with five rings on it, the symbol of House Verditus, the artificers and crafters of magical items.  “I hope all is well in southern Italy Claudia.”

“It is well and now that I have finished these lenses and their frame, I can see as I did thirty years ago.  I may even enchant them.”

For about an hour the twelve primi of the Order of Hermes chatted about minor things, sharing titbits of gossip, and otherwise caught up with as friends long separated.  Eventually the conversation wound down and after a few moments of silence Rafael spoke first.  “Antonius, I am worried about all the expeditions that have been launched in the name of the Church in recent years.”

“We cannot endanger the Order by challenging the Church, even a small portion of one of those armies could destroy many of the covenants in the Order.” Julius shook his head.

“My point exactly noble Guernicus.  What happens when they are done with the Moors or the pagans in the east?”

“While the Christian lords have made gains in Iberia, it will be a long time before the Moors are driven out.”  Julia shook her head. 

“Not to mention the various expeditions to the Holy Land have been less than successful.” Drucilla agreed.  “Ever since Saladin shattered them at Hatin and the second expedition failed to take Damascus, they have been mostly been driven back to a few cities along the coast and Cyprus.”

“You forget Richard’s campaign.” Seneca placed his goblet on the table and a pitcher floated over to refill it. 

“No, I don’t dear Seneca.  Yes he took Acre and a few coastal towns but he failed to even lay siege to Jerusalem.  He negotiated a peace that achieved peaceful passage for the Christians so at best you can call his campaign a partial success, …. from the Christian perspective.” Drucilla quickly added as Talibah looked at her.  “I doubt that Fredrick’s latest adventure will be any more successful.”

“Why should we be concerning ourselves with the Church’s Levantine campaigns?”  Claudia fumbled with a small bird’s claw and a pitcher floated over and refilled her goblet. 

“While the campaigns in the Levant are of little interest to any of us who do not have covenants over there,” Rafael nodded to Talibah and the Aoife, “The campaigns against the Cathars have unsettled an area where we have serious interests and most of our successes in building alliances with sensible church leaders.  I fear that if the northern knights and their allied clergy are successful over a hundred years of careful alliance building will be undone.”

“The Church and mundane nobles are tied up in many campaigns, not all of which go well for them.  Most of those campaigns will continue for a long time to come.  So long as we do not draw attention to ourselves I don’t think we need to worry overly much about the Church as a whole.”  Antonius sighed and sunk deeply into his chair. 

“I do not share that belief Noble Antonius.”  Arnbjórn rumbled.  “The Teutonic Order and its allies have been very troublesome for several of our covenants in the Novgorod Tribunal.  The fighting between them and the pagans has made collecting Vis and mundane supplies very dangerous.  Last harvest, I had to personally lead an attack to kill an entire group of them when they tried to destroy a village that the covenant I was visiting depends on for food.  The conflict has ceased for now but it will resume in the near future.”

“Arnbjórn, do you expect the covenants in the Baltic region to have to openly take sides?” Julius leaned forward, his brow furled and his voice heavy with concern. 

“I do not know Julius.  We have had very good relations with the Estonian nobles, some of them even welcome the covenants near them.  The villages tend to welcome us when we are in the area.  When we do have to fight we are as careful as we can be to leave no traces as to what happened.  While I hope that we don’t have to get drawn in, we have to defend ourselves and those we depend on.”  Arnbjórn again glanced over at a pitcher of wine and it floated over to refill his goblet. 

“Dragons.”  Talibah traced one of the tattoos on her cheek.

“Aye, no easy answers.  Best we try to avoid entanglements in mundane fights.  We must defend ourselves but taking sides must be avoided.” Aoife nodded in agreement.

“Sometimes war does not give us the choice.” Arnbjórn shrugged.

“Even if we try to keep a low profile, we have to defend ourselves when they come raping the lands that our covenants depend on for food and other basic supplies.” Marcus made a come hither motion with his left hand and the pitcher of wine that had just refilled Arnbjórn’s goblet floated over and refilled his goblet.  “Which means at some point the Church will notice that we are organized and that we are not just a handful of odd nobles.”

“The mundanes would be better off if they had a single strong leader as they did with the early Caesars or with Charlemagne.”  Seneca tugged at a thread in his robe. 

“Order creates chaos; short mundane lives.”  Talibah traced the largest tattoo on her forehead. 

Julia muttered something very softly as she too a drink.  Antonius threw a sharp glance at her as Talibah looked at her as if noticing an insect for the first time.

“New supplies of Vis are becoming harder to find, especially as fairy forests retreat in the face of more and more mundane villages.”  Varia mused softly. 

“It is becoming very hard to find places to locate new covenants without getting drawn into mundane politics.” Claudia nodded.

“Provencal is being cleared of many villages as we speak.” Rafael grumbled.

“Rafael, you have long advocated for closer ties with the Church and that we shouldn’t fear them.”  Julia’s smile took any sting from the words.

“Have you considered taking a lover Julia?”  Rafael winked back.

“Perhaps a few noble?”  Varia smirked.

Julia’s face flushed darkly but before she could respond, Arnbjórn’s fist slammed into the table, “ENOUGH!”  We are here to decide what to do about all the Christian expeditions that threaten to draw us in.  Every magi and every covenant is split over this.  We need to present a unified answer that is more than ‘avoid if possible.’” 

“Arnbjórn is right,” Julius frowned.  “We have only a short time and we have other issues to …”  A soft knock on the door interrupted him.

Antonius glanced around the room and after several Primi nodded he made an opening motion with his hand and muttered softly.  The heavy bolt holding the door shut slid to one side and the door opened just enough for Jonathon to slip in.

“This had better be very important Jonathon.”  Antonius warned as the boy approached as if caught red handed in some serious misdeed and sent to the headmaster’s office. 

“Please forgive me Primi.  Master, I was studying in your library when a strange fog started coming out of the fireplace.  I quickly checked and there was no fire and the flute was open.  As the fog started to fill the room I reached out to see if I could determine if magic was at work and a man stepped out of the fog.” 

“In your personal library?!!??”  Julia blurted out.  The other Primi seemed equally stunned and after a moment of silence began all talking at once.

“Silence.”  Antonius rapped the table with his knuckles and the sound of a gavel echoed through the room loud enough to silence all the Primi.  As they fell silent, Antonius looked again at his apprentice.  “Please continue Jonathon.”

Swollowing hard, “He claimed to be an elf lord and that he asked to speak with you by full name and title.”  Jonathon looked around the room, “each of you.”

Again Antonius had to gavel the Primi into silence with repeated rapping of his knuckles onto the table.  Turing to Jonathon,  Antonius smiled warmly, “You have done nothing wrong Jonathon, but are you absolutely sure he actually walked out of the fog and not through the door while it was obscured by the fog?”  Antonius peered deeply into the boy’s eyes.

Jonathon closed his eyes for a moment and mumbled a few quick words.  “I had to unlock the door when I left the chamber to come here.  I am certain that my back was to the door when he appeared but the fog was very thick at the time and I might have gotten turned around.”

Compressing his lips tightly together Antonius looked at the other Primi one at a time, “Thoughts?”

“Perhaps we should hear what this person has to say.”  Aiofe spoke first.

“If he can pass through the wards on this covenant and into your sanctum he must be exceptionally powerful and we need to take precaution before meeting with him.”  Claudia pulled out a handkerchief and began cleaning her glasses.

“We should use the Judgment Chamber.  Its wards against demons, fey, and divine are the strongest in the Order and the ward against lying was laid in a ritual lead by my parens, who specialized in detecting such things,” Julius nodded in agreement.

“I agree that we should use the Judgment Chamber but we need to erect additional protective wards, as strong as we can make them.”  Seneca drained his goblet.

“If he can pass through the Aegis protecting this covenant, no spell we can cast as individuals will touch him.”  Marcus scoffed.  “We should alert the rest of the magi here for the Tribunal and prepare to deal with this intruder harshly,” he gripped his dagger and seemed almost eager.

“I think we are dealing with a very powerful few, maybe even a personal servant of Oberon or Tatiana.  It would be prudent for us to be very polite.”  Varia frowned at Marcus.

“There are two other forces that this individual might represent, one that we would be powerless against – thus explaining how he penetrated the Aegis, and one that will require us to use our wits and good judgment rather than try to break his deceptions.”  Drucilla shook her head.

“Enigma requires knowledge; premature judgment foolish.” Talibah traced a tattoo on the back of her wrist.

“Let us take every precaution we can without alerting the other magi … for now.” Julia raised her finger.  “We should expect some ruse or deception, especially if we are dealing with fey or diabolic forces.”

Looking around the table again, Antonius spoke with closed eyes. “We shall reconvene in the Judgment chamber in two hours having made what personal preparations we each deem necessary but not to alert the rest of the magi for the moment.  I don’t want someone to take action prematurely.”  Each of the Primi nodded in turn and rose to leave the room one by one in the order in which they came in.

Turning to his apprentice, “Please so the man to a guest room and tell him we will meet him in three hours.  Then in two hours time meet us outside of the Judgment Chamber and I will summon you when it is time to bring him to us.”

“Yes Master,” Jonathon helped his master to his feet. 

“Off with you.  I can still walk unaided and I don’t want him to be in my sanctum when I arrive.”  Antonius shooed the boy off.

“What if he insists on waiting to meet you?”

“Tell him that we will meet him as a group so we can all hear what he has to say and that we would like him to be comfortable while we get ready to meet such an honored visitor.  If he still refuses, then I will just have to encounter him.”  Antonius frowned deeply.